Chapter 638: The Girl In The Wheelchair
"Auntie!" Charlotte rushed to her side. "What’s wrong? What happened?"
The others gathered around, their concern mounting.
"Are you okay, Big Sis?" Yelena demanded. "Why did you collapse like that?"
"Please, tell us what’s happening." Fauna urged.
The Maiden of Fate looked utterly hopeless. Her eyes were filled with tears, her face a mask of anguish. She looked like she had lost her soul.
And then she spoke.
"Mika..."
The word was barely a whisper.
Yelena’s blood ran cold. "What about Mika?"
"Mika...Mika....Mika."
Tears began to stream down the Maiden of Fate’s face. Her beautiful features contorted with a rage so pure, so overwhelming, that it seemed to fill the entire room.
"How could they do that to him?"
She whispered. Then, louder:
"HOW COULD THEY DO THAT TO MY BABY BOY!?"
She began slamming her fists against the floor, her composure shattering completely.
"MY BABY BOY—HOW MUCH SUFFERING HAVE YOU GONE THROUGH? HOW COULD YOU LIVE THROUGH THAT!?"
Her fists pounded against the ground over and over, her blessing surging uncontrollably.
Blood began to leak from her torn knuckles, but she didn’t seem to notice.
"WHO CARES ABOUT THE OTHERS?" She screamed. "LET THEM MANAGE ON THEIR OWN! I FOUGHT THAT WAR FOR YOU, MIKA! I FOUGHT IT ONLY FOR YOU! TO KEEP MY BABY SAFE!"
"BUT NOW...NOW..."
She slammed her fists again and again, her body shaking with grief and fury.
"HOW COULD YOU JUST LET YOURSELF SUFFER LIKE THIS?"
She broke into tears, and the sight was absolutely shocking.
The Maiden of Fate was the most composed of them all—the leader of the entire group, the one who never broke down, never lost control.
Even in the worst situations, she maintained her dignity, her grace, her cold composure.
And when she did cry, it was restrained—gentle tears flowing down her face, nothing more.
But this...this was different.
This was the cry of a mother who had just discovered that her child had been tortured while she stood by, helpless to stop it.
The others stared in shock, their minds struggling to process what they were seeing.
Finally, Fauna spoke, her voice trembling.
"What happened to Mika?...What did they do to him?"
Nadia turned to Charlotte, her eyes shimmering with emotion.
"Charlotte." She said urgently. "Tell us what happened. Did...he lie? Did Mika actually go through something terrible? What did they do to him?"
Charlotte opened her mouth to answer—
But just then the sound of something rolling came from the hallway.
The family turned as one.
In the doorway sat a girl of fragile beauty on a wheelchair. Pale as moonlight, with hair like spun silver cascading over shoulders that seemed too thin to hold it.
A blindfold of white silk wrapped around her eyes and her hands rested motionless on the wheels of her chair.
This was the daughter of the Maiden of Fate.
She paused at the threshold, her head tilting slightly as though sensing the emotional turmoil that filled the room. Until finally—
"Mika’s awake."
She said, her voice hesitant, uncertain in a way that was utterly foreign to her character.
Yelena’s eyes lit up immediately, hope flooding through her chest. Mika had been kept in a completely separate room—his condition too delicate, too unusual for standard monitoring.
The Maiden of Fate’s daughter had taken on the responsibility of watching over him, her unique abilities making her the only one capable of monitoring his impossible state.
But the hope that had surged through the family was quickly tempered by what came next.
"But he’s behaving very strangely, Mother." The girl continued, her small hands gripping the sides of her wheelchair with intensity. "Very strange."
The Maiden of Fate slowly raised her head, her tear-stained face turning toward her daughter.
"Behaving strangely?" She repeated. "What do you mean? What’s happening?"
Her daughter drew in a deep breath, and when she spoke again, there was a warning in her voice that made every single person in the room go still.
"You should go see him right now. But please—don’t provoke him. Don’t say anything to excite him. Don’t do anything sudden."
She paused, her blindfolded gaze sweeping across the room.
"I think he’s in a very volatile state right now. Anything you say might trigger him to do something we’ll all regret."
Confusion rippled through the family.
What could possibly have happened to make the Maiden of Fate’s daughter, a child who had remained calm through every crisis they had ever faced speak with such gravity?
But the Maiden of Fate understood.
She had glimpsed fragments of what Mika had endured, seen only the edges of his suffering, and even that had been enough to break her.
The fact that her daughter was describing him as "volatile" rather than utterly shattered was, in itself, a miracle.
Charlotte was the first to move.
"Let’s go!" She said, her voice urgent. "Let’s go see Mika right now!"
She had witnessed everything. So, she was devastated for him, terrified of what he might have become in that nightmare realm, and desperate to see him with her own eyes.
The family followed, moving quickly through the corridor toward the specialized room that had been prepared for Mika’s sealed off from the outside world to ensure privacy and security.
But as they walked, each of them was lost in their own thoughts.
This was because the daughter of the Maiden of Fate was a peculiar figure, someone who seemed incapable of being surprised.
No matter what happened, no matter how dire the circumstances, she always remained calm and composed.
Even during the previous two incidents with Anya and Astrid, when the rest of the family had been breaking down into tears, she had been the one telling everyone it would be alright. She had been the one reassuring the adults, promising that Mika would handle it, that there was no need to worry.
She was just a child in a wheelchair, a girl who looked so weak and fragile—yet she possessed a strength of spirit that put the adults to shame.
So the fact that even she seemed unsettled right now made the entire family feel as if something truly terrible had happened.
Fauna pressed her palm against the door to Mika’s room, and the family hurried inside.
"Mika darling!" Fauna called out. "What’s wrong? Are you alright?"
"Baby boy?" Yelena’s voice was thick with worry. "Are you awake? Are you finally awake?!"
"Little brother!" Astrid shouted.
"Mika, we’re here!" Anya added.
But the moment they all stepped inside, they froze.
The bed was empty.
The machines that should have been monitoring his vital signs stood silent and dark, their wires completely detached from his body.
The specialized container that had been preserving his brain was missing from its stand.
For one horrifying moment, the family thought he had somehow left the room and wandered off in his confused state
Then Charlotte’s voice cut through the silence.
"Mika...you’re there."
Everyone turned slowly.
Mika was still in the room.
He hadn’t gone anywhere. He was standing at the far end of the space, positioned before the large window that overlooked the hospital’s private garden.
He wore nothing but a thin hospital gown, and his back was turned to them as he stared out at the scene beyond the glass.
It was night, technically still New Year’s, despite the hour and the garden below was filled with families who had chosen to spend the holiday at the hospital.
Children ran through the paths, playing games of tag beneath the starlight. Elderly patients sat in circles, sharing cake and conversation.
Mothers and fathers held their little ones close, pointing at the fireworks that still occasionally bloomed in the distance.
The hospital had been sealed with powerful formations that blocked out the chaos of the outside world. The news of what was happening—the arrests, the exposure, the fall of Marcus Williams had not penetrated these walls.
That meant that these families had no idea what was happening just beyond the hospital walls.
They were simply enjoying a moment of peace, a moment of normalcy in a world that had suddenly been turned upside down.
And Mika was watching them.
But something was wrong.
The moment the family stepped into the room, they felt it—an oppressive force pressing down on them, making it difficult to breathe, difficult to think.
It was as if the very air had become heavy, saturated with an energy that seemed to crush them from all sides.
The little ones paled immediately, their small bodies struggling against the invisible weight.
The mothers had to summon their blessings just to protect their children, erecting shields of mana to keep them from suffocating in the suffocating atmosphere.
They knew immediately that something was very, very wrong.
Fauna was the first to speak, her voice careful and measured.
"Mika darling? Are you...alright? Your head—I mean, your brain—is it doing okay?"
She felt ridiculous asking such a thing, but what else could she say? She had preserved his brain carefully, keeping it in the specialized container as he had instructed.
"Did you finally put it back inside your head?" She continued awkwardly. "Did you manage to do it on your own, or do you need help? I can—I can perform the surgery if you need me to."
But Mika didn’t respond.
Yelena stepped forward, her voice soft and gentle.
"Baby boy, look at me, please. Can you look at me? I just want to see that you’re doing alright."
She didn’t dare move closer. Something in her instincts warned her against approaching too quickly, against making any sudden movement.
"Please look at me." She repeated, her voice cracking slightly. "I want to see your face one time. Just once."
She forced a smile onto her face, though tears were already gathering in her eyes.
"For the past three weeks, I’ve been staring at your face with your eyes closed. Every single day, I’ve sat beside your bed and watched you sleep, praying to every god that exists that you would open your eyes and look at me."
Her smile wavered.
"So to see you looking at me, truly looking at me would be the greatest joy I could ever receive."
But Mika didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge her words. Didn’t so much as twitch.
Nadia tried next. "Mika. You’re scaring the little ones. Turn around...please."
The Maiden of War stepped forward.
"Soldier. Report."
It was her way, always had been. Treating him like one of her own, expecting him to snap back with some cheeky remark.
But Nothing.
The little ones tried as well. Their voices were small and trembling.
"Mika, please look at us..."
"Little brother, come on. Don’t scare me like that..."
"You’re alright, right? You’re okay?"
Still nothing. The oppressive pressure in the room seemed to thicken, and the mothers had to reinforce their shields.
The children’s faces were growing paler by the second.
It was only when Charlotte finally spoke again, her voice breaking with desperation that Mika stirred.
"Mika...are you alright?"
His head lifted slightly, as if he had finally heard a voice that penetrated through whatever fog surrounded him. Slowly, he turned his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, though his face remained partially hidden in shadow.
And then, to everyone’s shock, he chuckled.
"I promised, didn’t I, Charlotte?"
His voice was soft, almost conversational, but there was something that made the hairs on the back of everyone’s neck stand up.
"I promised to bring you out, didn’t I?" He continued. "And look—I managed to fulfill my promise."
Charlotte’s eyes welled with tears, but she forced herself to smile.
"Yes, Mika. You did! You kept your word, just like always!"
Her voice trembled, but she pressed on.
"I never doubted you. Not from the very beginning. The moment you made that promise, I knew I was going to come home safe."
Mika made a sound that might have been a chuckle. It was hard to tell.
"How is your body doing?" He asked without much emotion in his tone. "I’ve heard that people who spend extended periods in comas experience aches throughout their bodies."
"Difficulty walking. Trouble using the restroom. Dry throats that make it hard to even drink water."
He paused.
"I hope you’re not experiencing any of that."
Charlotte shook her head quickly.
"Not at all, Mika. I’m doing perfectly fine! Walking, talking, breathing—all on my own. Everything’s working exactly as it should!"
She tried to sound optimistic, to project confidence and reassurance.
But then her voice grew worried.
"But what about you, Mika?"
The rest of the family tensed at her words, their gazes sharpening with alarm.
"You’re the one who suffered the most. You’re the one who was dragged to the depths of hell in that bastard’s realm. You’re the one who..."
She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
The rest of the family on the other hand looked at Charlotte in alarm—suffered the most? Dragged to the depths of hell?
What was she talking about?